Jour et Nuit Étreinte
by Ginevra Magdalene Katnis Eaton
Summary: Éponine is a girl struggling on the streets of Paris. Enjolras is a wealthy student fighting for equality in France. Full Summery Inside. I don't own anything
1. Chapter 1

**Éponine is a girl struggling on the streets of Paris. With her two younger siblings, and herself, to protect from her father, she does whatever he bids - even if that whatever is selling her body to random strangers. Enjolras is a wealthy student fighting for equality in France. He's the leader of the revolution, the leader of Les Amis de l'ABC, the marble man who has little time for anything except his cause.**

**Slightly different writing style this time which I really strange from me - hope you enjoy it.**

It was raining but it always was. The weather seemed to enjoying fitting Éponine's mood, she was rarely happy and the weather in Paris was rarely sunny. Today was only a bit worse than usual not enough for there to be lightening and storms but enough for it to drizzle in a light, irritating way.

Éponine sighed as she examined her body, her skin already changing colour from the most recent of her beatings. This one hadn't been meant for her but for her younger brother, Gavaroche. A cheeky blond haired boy with sparkling blue eyes and wide grin, you would never guess the troubles they went on at home if you looked at him. The lack of food was obvious, his body was far too skinny, his bones too prominent but the abuse from their parents, that was not something the naked eye couldn't see.

"Éponine!" her father's voice roared across the apartment. "It's 10o'clock, get out of this building and make me some money."

Éponine groaned, feeling her eyes flutter shut in dread. She hated this time of evening. She pulled her coat back over her arms, hiding the horrible slutty dress she wore underneath, and went over to kiss her siblings heads. She and her younger sister Azelma shared a double bed while Gavaroche got his own but it was a makeshift one. She then hurried past her father, averting her eyes so she didn't get another beating and rushed out of the apartment building and onto the street.

She allowed her feet to take her to her work area but her mind wondered from topic to topic; Marius Pontmercy played a large part in these daydreams. Marius was her best friend, a rich law student, but he had no idea of the treatment she received from home or her job.

Let me tell you about the Thérnardier's, the family of which Éponine, Azelma and Gavaroche belonged to. They had once been a working-class family, never honest, they had owned an inn and cheated their customers in any way possible. Back then it was just Éponine and Azelma and they were adored by their parents, they were brought presents without reasons and constantly fussed over.

Well saying it was just them was a bit of a lie, there was also a young girl - Cosette - who had been with them for years. She was the same age as Éponine but she wasn't treated at all in the same way. The way Cosette was treated was best described as being a slave to the Thérnardier's. She made stockings for Éponine and Azelma, never got any presents, only got scraps of food and was forced to sleep in a little alcove in the wall. The Thérnardier's were paid to keep Cosette and they extorted that the fact that the mother could never find out if they were lying about Cosette's position.

Eventually though, a man came and took Cosette away and from there everything went downhill. They were no longer receiving the monthly allowance for Cosette - none of which had ever really gone on Cosette - and people were beginning to become suspicious of the strange losses that happened in the Thérnardier's inn. Business began to fall and as it did the Thérnardier's fell into poverty.

Now they did whatever they could to get money and scamming and robbing people was their way. It wasn't usual for Monsieur Thérnardier to be in jail with his gang the Patron-Minette. However, they all played their part - Gavaroche was the best pickpocket in Paris if not in the whole of France - which leads to Éponine's job that has been carefully eluded till now so you don't judge her too harshly.

Éponine Thérnardier was a prostitute or as her customers most often called "a whore". She had been since she was thirteen and she was now twenty so she had acquired what she hated to call regulars. Her most regular customer was part of the Patron-Minette and she found it completely disgusting - well she found the whole job disgusting - that he was her father's best friend; his name? Zacharie Montparnasse. Her work area? The back streets of Paris, where anyone looking for a whore would look for one especially those who knew of Éponine knew that was where she started her evening. She was never short of customers to her horror.

Perhaps we should describe what Éponine looks like for that may help you understand her never ending stream of horny customers. Beneath her dirty and rugged exterior she was actually quite beautiful and that exterior was not as bad as some of the other "lovely ladies" that sold themselves. She had a long mane of brown hair which in most places looked more black than anything because of the dirt and if it was dark enough the knots in it made it look like messy curls. She had full lips and wide brown eyes that were surrounded by long dark lashes that she could flutter in the most alluring of ways. She wasn't unusually tall but she wasn't unnaturally short, her body with tiny, her waist small enough for a grown man to probably wrap in his hand around, but she wasn't skinny enough that she looked grotesque - she still wasn't anywhere near a healthy weight though, of course, if she was, she wouldn't be there in the first place. The dirt on her skin, in some lights, often made her look like she had a tan. In short, she was one of the better looking prostitutes and she didn't charge too highly making her a prime choice for those in need. In addition, she always had a beautiful singing voice which drew the men in.

It was easy money, selling her body, and it was something she had become quite good at over the seven years.

There was no one there when she arrived at her spot to her relief and she sat down to wait, allowing her mind to drift to her boys.

Her boys were not anything to do with her profession - in fact they knew nothing of it - they were Marius friends. Les Amis de l'ABC was their name and they were led by a man, a student, called Antoine Enjolras. Les Amis de l'ABC were all students, revolutionists, federalists. They were an association but friends as well who Marius had introduced Éponine to when she fifteen. They had kind of adopted her and took her under their wing.

To begin with it was just leaving scraps of food about the Café - the ABC Café where they spent all their time - for her to eat since she wasn't one to accept any help so they were sure she had eaten something. She resisted to begin with because she knew what they were doing but eventually decided that they would leave the food whether she ate it or not and if she didn't it would get thrown away - that was a waste of good food. Often they would throw their jackets over her when she came in shivering from the rain. As she grew more comfortable with them, she would often curl up next to them, joking around with them, and allow them to buy her food of her own - they were all sons of extremely rich families so an extra meal here and there was nothing to any of them.

In return, she made sure they didn't eat or drink too much because this was a Café that sold alcohol - something the boys loved in varying degrees. The leader, Éponine noticed, never had any but at the other end of the scale was Grantaire who always seemed to be drunk. She also tried to make sure that they were left alone by the thieving of her station. It wasn't much but it was all she could really offer in return for their kindness of taking in a damaged street rat.

She wondered what her boys were doing right now. Probably holed up in the café, with the Enjolras pouring over plans for his newest plan to overthrow the king, the rest helping in varies ways and at varies levels. The majority of them were probably drinking and eating the evening away. Marius would probably be working hard faithfully at Enjolras' side. She wondered if they noticed her absence - it was quite often after a beating from her father that she would just curl up in a booth and watch the action as she wondered what happened to her relationship with her father. She knew exactly when it broke but we'll go into that later.

Her thoughts were broken as footsteps echoed off the stone walls of the alley way. Éponine felt her heart beat speed up and she swallowed, half hoping he'd walk past her but knowing she could never return home empty handed or she would get a beating that _was_ meant for her. He didn't walk past her.

"Éponine!" he greeted, his voice practically a growl and Éponine forced herself to stand up.

She knew this customer. He was a young man who was training for the army and she'd seen him a few times when he was allowed to leave base. On base, they had strict rules about women - none - so as soon as the men step off base they seek to fulfil their needs. There was the jingle of money dropping to the floor before his hands clenched her arms as he pulled her closer to him.

"Oh, I have missed our times together," nothing more was said as he forced his lips on hers, taking a step towards her so she was forced to step back against the wall.

He clearly wasn't wasting anytime as his hands drifted round her waist to undo her corset. Éponine always got paid more if she responded to their advances so she quickly wound her hands in his hair and pulled hard. He groaned and the laces loosened. Yes, he was undressing her already - no one said her job was glamorous: it was quite often that she provided her services against the wall. A few minutes later and her dress fell to the ground as well as his trousers.

"You know what I want, Éponine."

"That's more," Éponine replied confidently, her voice softer and sweeter than you would expect, but she knew he'd pay, a few seconds later he told her he would.

She had three more customers after that one, one of her wealthier 'partners' always took her back to his for their activities and that was also more (she knew her to make a profit - just like her father had back when they had the inn), so all in all she scrapped together a large amount of money. What excited her more was the idea that the boys would still be at the café and Montparnasse hadn't appeared that evening.


	2. Chapter 2

"Éponine!"

They had been drinking that much was obvious but as long as they didn't yell angrily or throw something she was fine with that - none of them were angry drunks, they were flirtatious drunks for the most part though others were just plain humorous.

"There you are, Éponine!" Marius grinned as he left the stone leaders side and made to greet her. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to drop in."

Looking around the Café, Éponine noticed that a lot of Les Amis de l'ABC were already passed out drunk across chairs or had stumbled back home. It was emptier than usual but still contained, awake, Enjolras, the leader she had mentioned before but more on him in a second, Marius, Courfeyrac and Grantaire.

Marius, we already know; he was Éponine's best friend, her protector in a way, and though many of the boys thought they were in love (or at the very least Éponine in love with Marius) their relationship was strictly platonic, Éponine often thought of Marius as another sibling, one that took care of her rather than the other way around. Marius was one of those easy-going people, he was compassionate, sympathetic and supportive - things that had drawn Éponine in the moment she had met him - he has thick brown hair, baby-blue eyes and his face was littered with freckles. At this point in our story, he's twenty.

Courfeyrac was a charming man three years older than Marius. He had a way with people; he was confident and unusually optimistic. Women completely adored him and he used that fact - a womaniser would describe Philippe Courfeyrac perfectly. He was also a devoted member of Les Amis de l'ABC and wasn't un-fond of his drinks. He was also brown haired, though it was curly unlike Marius', with warm brown eyes which laughed.

Adam Grantaire. Well he was a different story all together. He wasn't a big supporter of the cause that Les Amis de l'ABC worked for but he was - for lack of better work - devoted to Enjolras. He was a cynical man but he had intelligence and knowledge, or he would, if he didn't inhibit it with gallons of alcohol. Grantaire was a drunk but his nature in all was even more easy-going than Marius and he was always friendly. He was often known as 'R' and he was seven years older than Marius - the eldest of Les Amis de l'ABC. His hair was darker than the other boys - black - and his eyes were practically grey.

That only leaves us with Enjolras, the man we have left alone for a while, skirting around him but now we will finally pay him some proper attention. Attention he deserves for he will come to play a large part in our story.

Antoine Enjolras, the leader of the revolutionary group Les Amis de l'ABC, was a charming but intimidating man and he had the looks to go with this. Tall, blonde, blue eyed and chiselled - he was described as an 'antique god'. He was often referred to as 'Apollo' for his stone-like nature and devotion to democracy, equality and justice. Enjolras as stated has blond hair, it was wavy and long, long enough the he tied it at the nape of his neck in a black ribbon, his eyes were a deep (in both senses of the word) blue which were surrounded by long, fair lashes. Women fell left and right for him but he never paid them any attention, for Enjolras they didn't matter, his revolution was all that did. He was the Logic of said revolution and had a way with words, so much so that he managed to gather the Les Amis de l'ABC together against the king. He would spend hours writing his speeches and looking at his plans - Enjolras' words were dangerous for they could convince people without much effort.

Marius was close friends with Enjolras, who was four years older than him, and Enjolras was the first person Éponine had been introduced to when she first entered the Café. At that point, she and Marius (for they were the same age) were fifteen and Enjolras was nineteen but Éponine was completely taken with him straight away though he said but two words to her.

_"Welcome, __Mademoiselle__."_

They were still the only words he had ever said to her but he always made sure to acknowledge her whenever she entered the Café. She replayed that fact that he had called her 'mademoiselle' in her head for a while since no one had ever called her since her family feel from working class station.

Marius grinned as he wrapped her in a hug, his gentleness feeling weird after a night of work but Éponine made sure she hugged him back as she usually would. Enjolras nodded at her when she caught his eye over Marius' shoulder and she could feel a light blush rise on her cheeks though it was hidden by her layer of dirt. When Marius released her, she sat down beside Courfeyrac who was just downing the last of his beer. Grantaire was up on his feet, dancing and singing in ways that clearly said he was past just being drunk.

"Easy, Courf," she laughed nudging his shoulder, "remember you've got to walk home."

He just grinned at her and pushed one of his still full pints towards her - Courfeyrac always made sure he had a least two waiting for him when he was in the mood for drinking. He was a sporadic drinker, unlike Grantaire, he would only have a few normally but when he did go for it, he completely went.

"Have you eaten, 'Ponine?" Marius called from where he was standing back with Enjolras.

Éponine's stomach made a strange noise but no one heard it over Grantaire's singing so she just smiled over at her best friend - she still wasn't very willing to accept their food unless the practically forced it on her which Marius always did.

"Yes, 'Rius, don't worry."

Marius frowned at her: he could always see through her lies, even when she thought she was at her most convincing - or at least that was what he thought. He could never see through her lies about her job or her home life. It seemed the deeper, more important lies, passed right under his nose. He let her think that he believed her but as soon as Courfeyrac had her laugh hysterically he went and got her food.

Éponine jumped as the plate landed in front of her and looked up.

"'Rius, really?!"

"Humour me."

We've said that Marius was easy-going but when it came to Éponine's health that mind was replaced with one that was full of protective instincts - he thinks of Éponine as a younger sibling, even though they're the same age, just as we said Éponine did. She gave him a sweet smile picking up the food and, just to 'humour him' took a bite. He nodded and returned to Enjolras, leaving Éponine shaking her head but secretly glad for the food.

She sat and watched Marius and Enjolras work - this time planning the newest speech that Enjolras was going to make - more studying Enjolras than anything. We weren't joking when we said "completely taken", Éponine was probably slightly in love with Enjolras and perhaps that was why Les Amis thought she was in love with Marius - she was always looking at Enjolras but, since Enjolras would look at no girl especially not her (at least in Eponine's thoughts), there was no way she could be looking at him so it must be Marius, who wasn't usually far from Enjolras he was so devoted to the cause, she was looking at.

Éponine sighed as Enjolras flashed a rare smile at something Marius said. Slightly in love with him she may but she never allowed herself to believe for a second that anything would become of it. Enjolras was rich, well-esteemed and stone-cold to the thought of women, kind as he may be, he would never look at her for more than a second and definitely not in the romantic way. She was a dirty gamine from the underbelly of Paris. She was just content to be in his company - though she was unsure how long it would last. Perhaps it was a good thing that he never spoke to her, she pondered.

******* 3 ********

Enjolras looked over Pontmercy's shoulder at the small huddled figure that was Éponine. He was sure she was hiding something from them, though it wasn't his business but Pontmercy's, unless she really could be so different each evening for no dramatic reason. He noticed that way she stiffened when Pontmercy hugged her upon entrance, though he had to push down a strange feeling in his stomach to focus on it, when usually she would beam and hug him back tightly - relaxing in the presence of her 'protector' not tensing. There was something different about her eyes tonight, he had noticed when he caught her eye to nod at her in greeting (the only interaction he ever had with her) and now she was sitting in the corner of a booth with Courfeyrac quietly eating the food Marius had given her when normally they'd have some sort of banter going on.

"So is Mademoiselle Éponine well?" he allowed himself to ask as he met Marius' eyes and the younger boy turned around to look at her quickly.

"I'm sure she's fine," Marius replied and Enjolras felt his brow crease, "Azelma isn't well at the moment, she just worried for her."

Enjolras nodded, his head still in his plans giving the impression that he wasn't really that interested but he felt his heart slacken knowing for tonight at least there as a reason for Éponine's changing personality. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him at all and reasoned with himself that it was because she was, loosely, part of Les Amis and therefore he cared about her wellbeing. She was part of their group but I think we all know it's a bit more than that because even stone gods feel, do they not?


	3. Chapter 3

Marius offered to walk her home as he often did but she refused as she always did - she didn't want Marius knowing her situation and it was completely out of his way. He fought her on it a little as he always did but eventually let her get her way when she pointed out that she knows the streets better than anyone and she was one of them, plus a little white lie that they'd never hurt her because of that.

As soon as she got into the apartment, she made a bee line for her father dropping her earnings for the night into his hand - good enough to avoid a beating - and hurried toward her room. Marius hadn't been lying when he said Azelma was ill, she had been for a few weeks and was only getting worse because they couldn't afford the medicine to make her better. It was killing Éponine to watch her sister get iller and iller, paler and paler, slipping away from her because there was nothing Éponine, in all her love for her siblings, could do against an unseasonably cold winter and a sweep of illness across the underbelly of Paris.

She walked into the room she shared with her siblings to find Azelma asleep - unsurprising considering the time and how exhausted her body was with fighting her illness. Éponine sighed as she leant down to kiss her sister forehead. She's sweaty, her skins sallow and her lips moving, mumbling as she dreamed. Éponine could literally see her little sister leaving her (it was soon, she could feel that Azelma had very little time left), leaving her for the world in the heavens that they're meant to believe in, where she'll be happy. For this reason, Éponine half wants her sister to die already, though it sounds so unbelievable harsh, because their lives weren't happy and Éponine wanted her siblings happy. Perhaps if Azelma died she would find that happiness or at the very least escape the life they have now with an abusive father, a brother who always disappeared and a mother who used to be loving but had just stopped caring one day.

Thinking now of Gavaroche, Éponine turned to look at her brother's bed, surprised and suspicious she noted that it seemed as if he was in it. Pulling the covers back slightly, for it was usual for Gavaroche to sleep with his head under the covers, she saw a lock of dark blond hair and smiled softly as she watched him breathing softly and calmly. She pressed a kiss to his head and he squirmed - Gavaroche did not like being kissed whether he was awake or asleep.

Satisfied now that her siblings were home and safe, she turned to change into her nightgown and eventually clambered into bed next to her sister, Azelma rolling into her side meaning Éponine could feel just how hot she really was.

******* 3 ********

The next morning was mayhem, Éponine woke up to the sound of her mother, Gwendoline Thérnardier, yelling loudly at them all the wake up and make themselves useful instead of being 'lazy pigs who are good for nothing and only sit around and eat the little food we have.' Her father, Vincent, was already, to Éponine's joy, out of the apartment, coning the rich people who dared enter their area of town or causing more havoc with the Patron-Minette. She scrambled quickly out of bed, throwing on her clothing and sparing Azelma a glance before she rushed out of the apartment - Gavaroche would be long gone by now.

'Make yourself useful' in the Thérnardier house meant one thing: 'go make us some money or pay the price.' It had been a long time since Éponine hadn't followed this order and she would never ignore it again - she knew what the consequences were. Sadly, her day job was the same as her night job but with different men, men who didn't have as much to hide. She didn't have as many regulars for the day because a lot of the time it was just men who couldn't contain themselves during the working day.

"Éponine!" a voice called and her whole body tensed - she was barely five minutes for the apartment so it was surprising to see her father walking towards her with the Patron-Minette barely a step behind. His eyes scanned her as he came closer. "Excellent, yore working, that means you won't give me any complaints."

Éponine but the inside of her lip so she didn't retort - she never argued with her father anymore, she would always loose drastically. Inside, she could feel her stomach sinking, maybe she hadn't escaped Montparnasse after all and she was right. Montparnasse had paid her father a large sum of money to have Éponine whenever and where ever he wanted - he was her first client and in a way he felt like she owed him for any money she earned, for it was him who 'taught her the ropes' of this life. Éponine knew it was true: he had taught her about men and what makes them tick; how to make use of her own body in the best way; but most of all she'd learnt how to tune out of her job but still look like she was into it for the customers ego. Montparnasse never wanted anything with her expect to satisfy his own desires - this time was no different.

During the day though, Éponine rarely sought out customers by singing but instead pickpocketed around the richer parts of town - staying away from the university of course where the majority of Les Amis attended, pickpocketing them would be disastrous. Her parents didn't know that she changed occupations but as long as she brought home money she doubted they really cared what she did to get it. So once Montparnasse was finished with her, she moved to the job she was far less ashamed and disgusted of.

She met Marius later that day apparently he had seen the most beautiful creature in the world that day and was completely taken with her - we know Éponine can understand that - though he had yet to speak a word to her and had no clue of her name. She was sitting on a bench in Luxembourg Gardens with a man he assumed was her father when he had seen her. She had chestnut hair and blue eyes, and, according to Marius, the most beautiful smile he had even seen. She was an angel, he said, and he must find out her name. Éponine simply smiled her way through their lunch, listening to Marius ramble about this girl. It was nice, she decided, to see him so elated.

"So are you coming to speech?" he asked her as he paid the bill and Éponine felt her heart jump, speeches in her mind just meant Enjolras.

She opened her mouth to reply with an affirmative, she would rarely willingly miss an opportunity to watch Enjolras hypnotise everyone with his words even if she couldn't understand half of them (she would tell him that if he wanted to speak to her people, he'd have to learn the way the spoke, but of course that'd mean speaking to him), when Gavaroche came speeding round the corner and straight past them.

"Was that -?" Marius began to question pointing after the fast moving young boy as Éponine stared worriedly.

"Yes," she nodded knowing what he was going to ask, she pushed herself up to kiss his cheek. "I should go find out what's happenin', say sorry to Monsieur Enjolras for me."

She was already walking backwards at this point but turned as she heard Marius agree and began to run calling out Gavaroche's name as she did so. She caught up with him, or he stopped to allow her to, beneath the large elephant she knew he hid in frequently. He had it all decked out and not one official was aware of its use.

"Gavaroche!" she panted. "What's going on?"

He just grinned mysteriously, with a hint of innocence he always seemed to have, at her and offered her his hand. Éponine raised her eyebrows for a second, Gavaroche never offered for her to take his hand probably because she'd often drag him away from endeavours if he did, but looking closely she saw what he had was an apple. She sighed and smiled - at least Gavaroche would never go hungry.

"Le' me guess, you almost got caught stealin' so you sprinted out as fast as you could?"

"Yup," Gavaroche grinned, biting into his apple, "everything's fine, you don't need to worry 'bout me, 'Ponine."

This was almost Gavaroche's catchphrase - 'you don't need to worry about me' - he said it so often and it was usually to Éponine for no one else in their family worried about other people. Sometimes though it was to the Les Amis boys for Gavaroche hung around with them to though not as often as Éponine who was practically an unofficial member.

Éponine opened her mouth to reply but Gavaroche had already disappeared into the elephant. When she was younger, she would have followed him but she could no longer fit in and Gavaroche knew that.

"Stay out of Papa's way tonight, okay, he's been out with the Patron-Minette," she called the warning up and received a call of agreement in return.

Seeing a police officer walking round the square, she quickly left: Gavaroche would never forgive her if she got his hideout discovered.

Wanting to pass time before she went home, she debated going to Enjolras speech after all but she'd seen him today when she was pickpocketing - what was he doing so far away from the university at that time of day she wasn't sure - he may not have recognised her. She hadn't met his eyes and he had been looking over her shoulder but she didn't want to take the risk - she'd give him a few days to forget any ideas that it had been her.

Her father was always worse when he was with the Patron-Minette for he would always come home drunk so Éponine decided to do some work - the more money the less likely a beating was.

However when she got home, she realised that on this occasion she should have come back a lot sooner.

**"Iller" I have been told isn't a word but "more ill" just didn't work as well - sorry but it's fan fiction so I'm going to with what sounds best rather than what correct. **


	4. Chapter 4

Azelma was coughing when Éponine finally got to the apartment and she quickly rushed to her side, the money she'd 'earned' jingling in her makeshift pocket. There was no one in the apartment and her coughs were the only sound. It hurt Éponine's heart to hear her sister coughing so painfully.

"'Ponine," Azelma gasped as soon as she walked into their room.

She was sitting with her head upright in their bed, her hand holding a handkerchief - which was spotted with blood - to her mouth, her breathing so slow, and she sweatier and paler than she was even the night before. Éponine swallowed but took the hand Azelma was stretching out to her (it was _so_ cold). She squeezed it gently because Azelma looked like a soft breathe of wind would break her in half but the squeeze she received back was strangely strong though there's tears in her eyes. Éponine felt her stomach clench - Azelma never cried: she was so strong.

"I'm scared," the voice was so quiet that Éponine had to lean in and strain her ears to hear it. "It's so dark when I sleep and there's no-one there and ... _I don't want to die_."

Éponine felt tears close her own throat up and they obscured her vision. She _needed_ to see Azelma now, she had to comfort her, she couldn't not see her at this moment. The tears rolled down her face leaving a trail of cleaner skin and she wiped her eyes to see Azelma was crying as well - the tears pooling in the hollow of her throat.

"Do you think it hurts?" Azelma questioned her and Éponine took a deep breath.

Her fourteen year old little sister was not meant to ask these questions, she should not be dying.

"Dying?" she shook her head. "I'm sure it's _just_ like falling asleep."

Her voice had cracked and she had to look away from Azelma's wide trusting green eyes. She brushed a bit of auburn hair from her little sisters eyes when looked back and gave her a weak smile.

"Just like sleeping?" Azelma questioned her, still looking slightly frightened.

"Quick and easy," Éponine nodded, "but won't be dark and there'll be people there to greet you. It'll be whole new adventure for you - a better one."

A small smile made its way to Azelma's face before she coughed again. Éponine moved forward quickly to pull her up into a sitting position. She sat beside her and allowed Azelma to lean against her. She was cold, Éponine could barely feel her weight, her heart beat was faint and her breathing shallow.

"Do you really think so?" Azelma's eyes were still shut.

"Yes."

"Maybe that won't be too bad then."

Éponine sniffed and her sister's breathing slowed down at bit more though she gasped for air to try make up for the less times she breathed in.

"Zelma, don't…"

"I'm just sleeping, right, 'Ponine?" Azelma reminded her of what she'd just said in a breathy voice that was almost gone. Forgetting how frail her sister seemed, Éponine wrapped her in a tight hug. "I love you."

With that said, Azelma took her last breath and Éponine held her while she did. She felt her heart stop and gasped for breath herself but all that came out with a horrifying cry. She hugged Azelma tighter as she sobbed, her face buried in Azelma's limp auburn hair.

"I love you too."

She was still hugging her when Gavaroche returned to the apartment and, acting younger than he ever had before (he was eleven at this time), he scrambled under one of Éponine's arms. Éponine had finally stopped crying but Gavaroche had only just started. They sat there for hours after their parents took Azelma away, just hugging. They'd lost a sibling, they were now down to two, and no one can understand that pain unless they've been through it. Part of their trio was missing forever now.

It seemed however that it didn't excuse Éponine from her job. Her father dragged her out the apartment building by her hair, even though she showed him the large haul she had gotten in the day, and pushed her into the street leaving her to fall to the floor.

She didn't work, however - well she did but not straight away and she didn't get money for it however well get to that later - instead she went to the one person who knew the extent of Azelma's illness: Marius.

They weren't planning tonight but it was earlier so it was a lot busier. She fought her way closer to where she could see Marius sitting with Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras and Joly. He didn't see her coming despite the row the boys nearer the door made. Enjolras caught her eye first because he was facing the way of the door and she watched as his forehead creased in concern making her feel self-conscious because she was sure looked a terrible mess, or at least more than usual. He elbowed Marius gently and jerked his chin toward her.

She bit her lip as Marius' soft blue eyes met her own brown ones and he jolted to his feet, pulling into a tight hug without hesitation. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder trying not to cry - Éponine Thérnardier did not cry in front of people.

"She's dead, she's dead, she's dead," she whispered unable to understand the words she was saying, they couldn't be true, they just didn't seem to register.

Marius tightened his arms around her and said something to the others before pulling her into a quieter area of the café though not realising her from her hug. He pulled her down onto a bench next to him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Marius muttered stroking her hair and she realised she was still mumbling. "Shh, shh, I know, I know. It's alright, it's going to be okay."

She let out a sob, her head still against his shoulder. One of his hands was rubbing her arm, the other resting on her hair while hers were around his middle with her curled into his side. He rocked gently trying to calm as the crying worsened. Marius was the perfect person to be with at that moment because as we've said he was sympathetic and compassionate and besides he knew Éponine best. He knew there was so way Éponine wanted to talk, she wasn't one to drink when she was upset and she definitely wasn't one to eat her sorrows away.

They sat there for hours, the Les Amis giving them space though every now and then one would appear in concern.

Bahorel was first, he was the humours one of the Les Amis, he always had a witty comeback on the end of tongue and a joke to tell. He just emitted a great sense of bliss but he was no use. Éponine wasn't in the mood to laugh and the few he did get out of her were just chocked. He left with a squeeze of her hand and a sympathetic smile. Lesgle had come with him and helped try and make Éponine laugh.

Combeferre came next and he's the philosopher of Les Amis de l'ABC but he was no use either though he did get Éponine to give him an honest smile for his efforts even pulling away from Marius long enough to give him a hug. The Les Amis seemed to lose a bit of hope after that and it was a while before the next boy came.

It was Courfeyrac and since Marius had lived with him a few years ago he was close to Éponine as well but he wasn't much use on comforting side so he just placed a drink on the table in front of her and disappeared. Then Feuilly, with his generous heart, accompanied Grantaire, who was drunk as always. Prouvaire (Jehan) came next with a flower, which got a slightly laugh, and a short poem. Joly, their medical guy, kept his distance but sent her smiles across the room.

Éponine couldn't help but notice that only one member, besides Joly, who left her alone was Enjolras. She wasn't completely sure how to feel about that but there was a strong feeling of disappointment, part of her had hoped that he would at least attempt to comfort her.

Perhaps we should look at what was going to Enjolras' mind.

It wasn't that he wasn't worried about her - he could feel it gnawing in his stomach, begging for his attention - he just couldn't bring himself to go over and check on her. It wasn't his place and, to be honest, he would never have done it for any other woman, he was polite and a gentleman but comforting was never his strong suit, just emotions in general weren't, he always seemed to make things worse when he attempted so he learnt just to not try to leave the female alone to wallow in her sadness. He didn't want to feel differently about Éponine than he would about anyone else because he didn't think about her differently. She was just another woman, woman didn't exist in his life, they were simply distractions.

"Enj," Combeferre, who has basically his second, called his attention quietly, "just want to ask if you are aware that you're staring at Éponine and Pontmercy?"

"Sorry, I was just … gazing into the unseen distance," Enjolras replied and Combeferre nodded in understanding, a half smile on his face.

**Sorry, I'm not very good at writing sad, death things like this. **


	5. Chapter 5

On to the fact now that Éponine went to work eventually but came home with no money.

It was past midnight when she left the café, the boys unwilling to let her walk home alone especially tonight after everything that happened but as always she'd managed to convince them though she felt their eyes on her as she left the café. She took a roundabout route to her normal area, just in case they watched the way she walked from the café, and saw a man already standing there - she let her eyes flicker closed before she walked towards his with confidence, more of a wiggle in her hips that she usually would walk with.

Her step faltered a little as she got closer and saw the man who was smiling at her appreciatively. He wasn't what she'd call a regular but he did appear from time to time, she only remembered him because he was violent and had a sick sense of pleasure. He paid more though. She swallowed her disgust for this man and smirked back at him as she closed the final gap between them - hatred for both herself and him beginning to rise in her veins.

He grabbed her arms and she gasped quietly as his fingers clamped tightly over a bruise still left over from Gavaroche's beating.

"You're late, whore," he snarled, spitting on her face and before she knew it she was on the floor her cheek stinging.

"I didn't realised we had made an appointment," she gasped sarcastically not being able to help it, that received a kick in the stomach.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain but was a little glad from the distraction of the pain in her heart from Azelma's death. It was clear that this customer no longer wanted sex but just to beat the person who was meant to give it to him. She was used to beatings, they were nothing to her and tonight she was actually welcome one.

When he was satisfied he caused her enough pain he left without a word, leaving her curled up in a ball on the street, no money and no way she perform any services that night.

Hence why she went to work but made no money.

She could taste blood in her mouth and a sharp pain in her rib cage. She debated staying there until the next day so she brought money home with her but she would get another beating either way - if she did go home now if would be for not bringing any money home, if she didn't if would be for being gone all night and day. She wasn't getting of it this time.

She pushed herself into a sitting position against the wall a breathed steadily, feeling a sharp pain when she did so. It took her a few minutes to push herself up into a standing position and an hour to walk the 20 minute walk home. The apartment was in darkness when she arrived but she knew that meant little - they never had enough money. She slowly climbed the stairs and entered theirs to find her father awake and drinking. She cursed under her breath.

"Well, how much did you make?" he asked, seemingly not noticing, or caring, about the blood that was trailing down her head - she pressed a hand to it.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"Don't mumble, 'Ponine," he snarled at her and she repeated it louder ("I didn't make any money"), watching as his face turned red and he stood up.

He was a thin man who wasn't strangely tall but with such a horrid expression on his face and being taller than her, he was imposing and terrifying to Éponine.

"Well what use are you then?" he yelled grabbing the nearest thing a throwing it at her.

She managed to dodge but wasn't expecting the next one which hit her right in the temple - she screamed out in surprise. Before she knew it he was in front of her grabbing her hair and yelling into her face. When he was done, he threw her to the floor though being drunk he missed and sent her flying into the table which shattered under her weight - it was an old table - and leaving her bleeding and lying in splinters. She raised her head to see Gavaroche leave their room and gestured desperately for him to go back inside just as her father began yelling at her from breaking their only table.

It only got worse from there. He didn't let her move from on pile of wood but instead pressed his foot on her back so she couldn't while he removed his belt. She bit her lip as it hit her back, the crack echoing around the apartment.

"Perhaps" - smack - "this" - smack - "will" - smack - "teach" - smack - "you," he told her, digging welts in her back with his belt, the fabric of her dress doing nothing to protect her against the harsh force of his make-shift whip.

He kept going, longer than he ever had before, and before long she was sobbing. She could feel the blood pooling on her back and darkening her dress but eventually she passed out, welcoming the blackness in an escape from the pain.

She woke up as her back hit something harshly but she didn't open her eyes and it took all her self-control not to scream out in complete agony.

"Get out of this building and never come near it again," her father's voice reached her, his face close to hers she knew from the stench that reached her as he spoke - he'd been smoking as well as drinking -, "if I ever seen your useless self again, it'll be too soon and I will make sure I never do again."

She blacked out again after that

It was still dark when she woke again and despite her aching and protesting body she pushed herself upright, using the wall as support. She guessed it was around 3 o'clock since it would begin to get light sometime between 4 and 5 with that logic she knew she had to move before Gavaroche or her father found her. She stumbled down the stairs this time and managed to get far away from the apartment before she collapsed out of sheer exhaustion. She had no idea where she was but by the cleanliness of it and the amount of greenery it wasn't the underbelly anymore. She debated moving further, into somewhere where she wasn't in such plain view, but could barely bring herself to lift a finger.

******* 3 ********

Where Éponine had collapsed was indeed part of the richer area of Paris and this is where our quiet leader plays his part in our story, which we've already said was large. Somehow of all the areas where Éponine could have ended up, she collapsed in an area which was on a certain gods walk to university.

******* 3 ********

We haven't really said much about Enjolras' life. He was the only child of wealthy parents and was training to be a lawyer, now being 24 he was nearly complete. He shared an apartment with Combeferre and the two of them managed to exist in harmony. Enjolras was a hard person to live with - you did not interrupt him while he was writing a paper, you did not throw loud parties (though Combeferre wasn't really that type of person) or do anything too loud, you didn't move things to less efficient places and you never touched his books. Oh and you rarely entered his room unless you have a specific point warranting his attention straight away.

Enjolras and Combeferre usually walked to the university together but on that day, oddly enough, Combeferre had a day off so Enjolras walked alone. Not that he minded - Enjolras quite liked being alone. He had the paper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other and was quite happy not having to make conversation. It was a surprise he didn't walk right pass Éponine with his nose buried in the paper but at the same time it would be hard to miss the pool of blood surrounding her.

His coffee dropped from his hand as he noticed her but he barely had time to notice as he dropped to side, picking up her head and shoulders to rest on his knee. He fumbled for a pulse.

"Éponine. ÉPONINE. _ÉPONINE!_" his voice grew more distressed with each saying of her name, his marble was cracking at the sight of a bleeding girl in his arms, there was a pulse but it was terrifyingly faint.

He shook her gently, hoping for some reaction but when he received none he simply gathered her in his arms and picked her up. He stumbled slightly having expected her to be heavier than she was but regained his balance and walked quickly glad he wasn't far from his apartment. A lot of men perhaps would have cried in this situation or completely panicked but remember this is Apollo we're on about.

He burst into his apartment, Éponine still bundled in his arms, and started barking orders at Combeferre, who had jumped to his feet at Enjolras' entrance - remember Enjolras didn't appreciate commotion so it was strange for him to be the cause of it. First to get Joly, then Marius and then go inform the university of his absence - his professor would understand if he missed a lecture in this circumstance.

He laid Éponine down on his bed - the sofa was slightly broken from when one of the Les Amis had jumped on it and entering Combeferre room could result in injury it was such as mess - finding the red sheets now slightly ironic. He sat down on the edge, pressing his lips together and rubbing his jaw with the palm of his hand, unsure what he was supposed to now. Enjolras, I should tell you, isn't good at being in a situation he doesn't know how to deal with or doesn't have control over. This was practically his worst nightmare. Éponine's people were the people he was fighting for - what would it say if he couldn't save her? Another voice whispered in his head - how could you live if you don't save her?

He pressed his hands against the frame of the bed thinking of how Éponine had been less than 12 hours ago. She hadn't been happy but she had been there, safe with Pontmercy, nothing to worry about as far as Enjolras was aware except the everyday things that everyone in her station struggled for - food, warmth, clean drink, money. He couldn't help wondering if Éponine's state now had anything to do with her sister's death though it seemed unlike Éponine to pick a fight or put herself in harm's way for no reason but then he had never spoken to her.


	6. Chapter 6

Joly, of course, was there within minutes with barely a word of greeting for Enjolras before shoving him out the room so he could look at Éponine, he had a bag with him that Enjolras was sure was full of medical equipment. Pontmercy didn't take much longer either and was yelling a Enjolras desperately to tell him what was going on before he was even fully through the door - it was odd for Pontmercy to shout. Courfeyrac had also come with him unsurprising since they lived together.

"Pontmercy, mon ami, I don't know!" Enjolras finally raised his voice at his friend and placed a hand on his friends' shoulder when he spoke again it was softer. "I don't know what happened - I just found her on my way to the university in a pool of blood. I have _no clue_ how she got there or what happened to her to put her in this state. She hasn't woken up and her pulse is faint - that's all I know."

Pontmercy stared up at him before pulling away and throwing himself down in a chair and Enjolras sighed - this wasn't what he had been expecting when he got up this morning. He was meant to go to his lectures, spend a few hours in the university library, come home and gather revolution stuff before heading out to the café to meet the Les Amis as he did every evening.

He ran a hand through his hair and decided to make coffee just for something to do and because he'd barely started the one he'd had when he found Éponine.

"Do you think 'Roche would know what happened?" Pontmercy muttered as Enjolras placed a mug in front of him. "Thanks"

"It's plausible but -" Enjolras began but was cut off as Joly excited his room. "Coffee on the side for you."

"How is she?" Marius had shot to his feet as soon as the door opened.

Joly didn't speak and walked to the counter where the last mug sat and took a sip of it. He looked concerned, tired and mildly horrified; odd considering the happy, jolly person he usually was.

"Well? Joly, please!"

Joly looked up from the mug and met Pontmercy's gaze before his eyes flickered to the other two. All three boys' attention was focused solely on him and he cleared her throat.

"She's taken a severe beating," he said heavily though no one reacted that atmosphere became heavier. "I believe she may have a cracked rip; she took a sharp blow to the temple but it was shallow and won't take too long to heal - head wounds bleed a lot even if they're not severe - but it seems to have been something blunt that had been throw or she walked into; there's a large amount of splints in her skin that I've tried to remove; her lips split and …"

Joly trailed off and took a sip of his coffee, no one seemed to notice that he was getting Éponine's blood all over it.

"And?" Courfeyrac prompted him. "What else, Joly?"

Joly frowned but then looked up, his silver-blue eyes like stone or ice.

"She's been whipped," he said after a long pause.

There was silence except for Pontmercy falling back into his chair muttering a quiet "merde". Enjolras' jaw clenched and he felt something flare up inside him - anger was the closest thing he could identify it to - and Courfeyrac's constant excitement seemed to have been extinguished so that a hard look could take its place.

"I'm not finished," Joly told them, walking closer and leaning on the back of the sofa. "This can't be a one-time thing - she's covered in old bruises, there are scars littering her body, I dread to think what might be hidden under all the dirt she's covered in. On the note of dirt, she's going to need that washed off in case the welts on her back get infected" - he turned to Enjolras - "but I've put her in one of your tops, I hope you don't mind, she just couldn't wear that dirty and blood-soaked dress."

"It's fine," Enjolras quickly agreed, shaking his head and pulling a face that suggested clearly that he couldn't even understand why Joly would think it wouldn't be. "The washing will be a problem though - I really don't believe she would appreciate any of us doing it."

Joly nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose I could ask Musichetta," he pondered. "What do you think, Pontmercy?"

"I think 'Ponine would be fine with it," Pontmercy spoke quietly, "or at the very least she'd understand we didn't really have many options."

Joly went to rub a hand over his eyes before Enjolras grabbed his wrist about a centimetre from his face and it suddenly seemed to click on him that his hands were stained were strained red from examining and bandaging Éponine.

"I'm going to…" he let the sentence trail off showing his hands to them and went to the bathroom without a word.

There was a moments silence before Enjolras stood as well.

"I'm going to go and seek out Gavaroche," he told them reaching for his jacket, "see if he knows anything-"

"Or tell you anything," Combeferre said walking through the door and glancing at Enjolras. "Aren't you going to change?"

Enjolras looked down at himself. His white shirt was red where Éponine had rested against him - his middle and his shoulder - but his black trousers looked normal and he'd already cleaned his hands and arms. He threw his jacket on and buttoned it up so the blood was no longer visible.

"No, no time," he muttered, opening the door, "besides it may make Gavaroche more susceptible to what I want to know."

It may seem a bit harsh that Enjolras was thinking that way when Gavaroche was only eleven but first off all we must remember that Gavaroche is must wiser than his age and second that he's seen beatings and blood before. He knew off death.

The door banged loudly behind him but Enjolras paid it no heed, his mind completely focused on where Gavaroche could be in all of Paris. He knew the lad better than he knew Éponine but where to find him was still a bit difficult. It turned out though he didn't have to since Gavaroche found him.

"Where's my sister?" the young voice asked from behind him and he turned to Gavaroche leaning against a wall. "I can't find her."

Enjolras looked at him and wondered how he was meant to break it to the kid that his sister - the only one he had left - was unconscious. He hadn't even had a chance to find out how he was dealing with Azelma for none of the Les Amis had seen him in that time between it happening and now.

"I know she's not okay," Gavaroche continued sounding surprising calm and mature, "so I need to find her."

"She's safe," Enjolras squatted and gestured Gavaroche closer to him, "but I need you tell me some things about what happened to her."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"She's asleep and I really don't know when she is going to wake up. Gavaroche, you have to tell me who did what to her. I _can_ help you."

"No you can't," Gavaroche replied to Enjolras surprise. "No one can."

"'Roche, I can't help _her_ if I don't know what happened," Enjolras lied ever so slightly. "You have to help me or she could die."

He unzipped his jacket and showed Gavaroche his top and the boy paled. Enjolras was over-extravagating a bit, or at least he hoped he was, but he did finally seem to be getting through the Gavaroche. The young boy sighed.

"Not here, they could over hear."

Enjolras lead the way to a park near his apartment building the opposite direction to the way Éponine always walked away from the café and sat Gavaroche on a bench.

Slowly, piece by piece, Gavaroche told him what had happened. Not just that night but in the lives. Éponine's and his own life story: the abuse of their father; the lack of mothering; the extent they went to to get money; the Patron-Minette; and why Éponine never allowed any of them to walk her home.

"So how does Éponine contribute to the family?" Enjolras asked, knowing his was going to hate the answer.

"Pickpocketing, delivering messages for Papa," Gavaroche paused for a second and Enjolras raised his eyebrows - what was he holding back? "She's a prostitute."

Yes, he definitely regretted asking that question. His teeth came together in an audible snap and his eye blazed in fury at what Éponine had to do. Taking a deep breathe, he put his hand on Gavaroche's shoulder. He was going to get the information and then react and deal with it later otherwise he was sure his marble exterior would crack.

"What happened last night, Gavaroche?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed in response. "When I entered the living area, she was already in a pile of broken wood bleeding, Papa standing over her. The screams came later after she'd sent me away…"

"Wait, your father did this to her?" Enjolras focused on that point. "Was it regular?" - silence - "Gavaroche, does your father abuse you and your siblings? … Answer me. This is very serious, Gavaroche."

Slowly, very slowly, Gavaroche's head moved up and down, averting his eyes away from Enjolras' face. Enjolras rocked back on his heels, for he had been crouched into front of the bench he had seated Gavaroche on. What was he meant to do with _that_ information?

"Can I see her?"

Enjolras looked back at Gavaroche and nodded, "of course."


	7. Chapter 7

Gavaroche didn't react well to seeing his sister unresponsive to him for even when she was sleeping the slightest noise would wake her and she had never been beating bad enough the she went unconscious. He sat on the side of her bed for ages. To begin with Enjolras hovered at the door watching but eventually grew uncomfortable and left for Pontmercy's company in the lounge/kitchen area - the rest of the Les Amis who had arrived had gone back to the university or work and Combeferre was in his room.

"You love Éponine," Pontmercy muttered, his voice had not risen above one all day.

"What?" Enjolras questioned completely taken by surprise by Pontmercy's statement for he hadn't asked.

"Éponine," Pontmercy repeated. "You're going to deny it, I know you are, but you don't see the way you look at her. It's different, Enjolras, and come on, admit you, the feelings who have about Éponine are different than any other woman you've ever come across."

Being told how he felt was the last thing Enjolras had expected when he sat down but he had to admit that Pontmercy had a point. He had always felt strangely draw to Éponine; always felt his eyes straying to her when he wasn't focused on a specific task; if she wasn't a the Café when she usually was, he missed her; if she was quieter than usual, he was concerned; the thought of her lying in the other room hurt and unconscious caused his stomach and throat to tighten horribly; seeing smiling when she walked into the café made his day but none of that, he told himself, meant he was in love with her. We, however, know that he just didn't want to believe he had fallen for her.

He opened his mouth to deny what Pontmercy said but no words came out.

"Wow," Combeferre said exciting his room, "is the man of words out of them?"

Enjolras whipped - forgive the expression - his head around to glare at his roommate though his heart was only half in it. Joking was what they needed to do right now so they didn't become to weighed down but they also needed to discuss important matters - his so-called feelings for Éponine did not fall into this category.

"No but we have to talk about Gavaroche and his situation - is he still in the bedroom?" Enjolras stopped his sentence, it was awfully quiet from his room.

Combeferre backed up few steps and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

"Gavaroche, everything alright?" he called through the door, he frowned back at the other two when not a sound was made.

"Perhaps he fell asleep," Pontmercy shrugged but got up and walked to the door. "'Roche? Can I come in?"

They waited in silence for a few seconds before Pontmercy pushed down on the handle gently allowing the door to fall slowly open. Éponine of course was lying exactly where Enjolras had put her that morning except now she was under the covers and she didn't look so, for lack of better word, dead. The covers were pulled up and there was a dent were Gavaroche had probably been sitting moments ago but the boy himself was nowhere to be seen.

"Enjolras, you might want to look at this."

Enjolras made his way over with a heavy sigh and glanced around the empty room.

"Merde," he whispered softly moving to the window that had been opened allowing the curtains to flutter softly - the fire escape went right next to the window, it wouldn't have been harder for Gavaroche to swing himself onto it. "Get the Amis looking for him, you two."

Pontmercy and Combeferre left the room and Enjolras went to follow them but his gaze fell on Éponine and he found his feet rooted to the ground. He studied her face for a minute, the most relaxed he'd even seen her and for some reason he felt the overwhelming need to protect her not because she was part of the cause but because she was Éponine. Without really thinking about it, his feet brought him to her side and her perched beside her on his bed. Combeferre and Pontmercy were already gone and he remembered what Joly had told them about unconscious people - that she may be able to hear them - so he began speaking to her.

"Pontmercy thinks I'm in love you with," he said amused simply because that thought was a the forefront of his mind - he wasn't too worried about Gavaroche really but he didn't want him going home or anywhere near his father unless something like what happened to Éponine happened to him. "Is that crazy? You're special, Éponine, but I've never even had a conversation with you, never had the nerve. I don't like the way you make me feel, I'm not meant to care about woman, I'm meant to care about Patria and the revolution and my school work, women, you, never should even enter my mind." (he ran a hand through his hair) "Why are you doing this to me, Éponine? Why couldn't you just be like everyone else?..."

He was so glad that there was also a chance that she couldn't hear what he was saying and as he continued talking to her that maybe Pontmercy was right, he was a little in love with her - he was, by the way, and more than just a little. The realisation of this hit him like a tonne of bricks: Antoine Enjolras did not fall in love with girls only country.

"I love you, 'Ponine," he muttered as the end of his ramble, looking at her calm sleeping face, "there, are you happy? I love you."

******* 3 ********

The Les Amis spread out of Paris to search for Gavaroche but as it grew dark that he no luck and had to call of their search - Gavaroche had lived on the streets his whole life, he could take care of himself though they knew Éponine would kill them when she woke to find out that they had lost her kid brother.

Enjolras returned home down heartened - later than the rest of the Les Amis. Combeferre was already asleep, having giving up the search for the day hours ago, but Enjolras couldn't. The images of Éponine laying in a pool of her own blood, of her blood seeping into his shirt, of Gavaroche sitting at her side, of him admitting to being abused, they were all burned into his memory and he was sure if they were even going to leave but for that reason he had to find Gavaroche. He had to make sure the boy was safe, had to find out why he had disappeared.

It was now 2 o'clock, according to Enjolras' watch, and he'd only just walked through the apartment door and headed straight for his room. Éponine hadn't moved, she lay there still, her breathing a lot steadier than it had been but he stopped in the doorway astounded by her beauty. Musichetta must have been over while they were searching for Gavaroche and given Éponine, what Enjolras hated to admit was, a well need wash. Trouble is Enjolras had though Éponine was beautiful anyway - with her big round eyes that were too big for a her face but gave off the impression of her being innocent, her crazy blackish hair and cute dimples when she smiled - but, clean, she was even more so. Her hair, now washed free of dirt and blood, was actually a medium brown and flared out across his scarlet pillow looking soft and shiny. It had slightly curl to it. Hidden beneath the dirt on her face had been little freckles only on her cheeks and her skinned glowed, though it was pale, an ivory colour. From the amount of sleep she had over the day, the areas surrounding her eyes weren't as black anymore and her eyelids were a light lavender colour.

For a man who prided himself on being unaffected by woman, Enjolras was extremely affected by this one. He stood in the doorway just staring at her, trying to connect the girl he had fallen in love with, look he could admit it now, with this girl. His feet took him toward her without his minds consent but he made no effort to stop them as he got closer and dropped to his knees at her side, pressing a kiss to her hand that rested at her side.

******* 3 ********

It was dark where Éponine's mind was trapped and, though to Enjolras in the real word her face seemed calm, terrifying. Her parents were there and Gavaroche. He was yelling for her begging her to help him as their father beat him. Azelma's voice whispered to her at times, their last conversation repeating itself in her mind. Marius had appeared at one point and he was crying - she had tried to reach for him but as soon as she got within reach he was gone, disappearing into the darkness.

There was one ray of light though, I think we can all guess what it is, where she wouldn't feel scared and a wave of calm would wash over her but the appearance of this man wasn't always good. Enjolras was of course the man. He would appear and everything would be fine, she would be safe and loved, but then her father would appear laughing evilly, his face distorted weirdly as the day changed into night. Montparnasse would be with him and the rest of the Patron-Minette and they would hold Enjolras as her father took his anger out on him instead. She was forced to watch it, unable to move, her feet rooted to the ground. They would eventually fade away leaving only her and Enjolras. Enjolras who lay on the floor, his mouth ajar and a trail of blood leaking from him, his red jacket that he always wore becoming stained with blood that her fault. She would cry and hug his body close to her as she never had done in reality because Enjolras was never vulnerable or injured in reality.

Her mind was stuck in a nightmare that she couldn't see the end of. It felt like she was never going to wake up and was going to be stuck with these horrific images forever.

***sigh* I love Enjolras but I just can't seem to get a hold of his character well enough to write him, he seems a little OOC which makes me sad but I am trying my best. **


	8. Chapter 8

However, she did wake up.

******* 3 ********

Éponine was holding Enjolras' body close to her as he bled out from another beating from her father, for if you remember this is what Éponine saw as she slept among other things. She was sobbing into his golden curls but his marble features, with the exception of his eyes, showed no emotion - it was always like this though.

Expect recently it changed. She'd whisper, as she always did, "I love you," quietly in his hair just before he took his last breathe and just as he opened his mouth to say something in return he'd die. She'd never know what he was going to say, never know if he loved her as well. Now however he lived long enough to reach his hand up to her and make her look him. His deep blue eyes would lock powerfully onto her tear-filled brown ones and slowly his mouth moved, his words always so quiet that she barely heard them: "I love you, 'Ponine."

You, I'm sure, and I know exactly what had caused this change but poor Éponine does not. However, back to the point.

Éponine was holding Enjolras' body close to her as he bled out from another beating from her father, for if you remember this is what Éponine saw as she slept among other things. She was sobbing into his golden curls but his marble features, with the exception of his eyes, showed no emotion. It was dark as I have said in her dreams, her prison, but as she whispered those words it began to become lighter and Enjolras' body began to fade from her arms.

"No!" she whispered. "No, no, Enjolras! No!"

Her voice began to become more panicked and her tears fell faster - she blinked against them and the growing light. It was a while but eventually a voice reached her.

"Éponine, open your eyes. Please, Éponine. Open your eyes. Come on, come back to us."

She recognised the voice - Enjolras - and as she did everything began to change. The light disappeared again and she became aware that she was lying down on what felt like a cloud, her head was resting on it's side, her right hand at her side, her left raised in the air. She would feel the texture of different materials and of skin - someone must have been holding her hand.

"Éponine, please!" Enjolras voice was slightly more now and she fought were her eyelids which felt so heavy because although he sounded desperate he also sounded in pain - she had to get to him. "'Ferre, go get Joly!"

There was then sound of moving footsteps, hastily moving ones, and then the sound of the door opening and closing but Eponine focused on what must have been Enjolras' hand rubbing circles on her hand. Steadily she was winning the war with her eyelids and Enjolras' concerned face and a strange room was coming into view, though it was all blurry. She squeezed her eyes shut against the light and open eyes fully.

"Éponine."

Her name was a sigh from the marble man's lips and she looked up at him with wide eyed confusion. She had never heard so much emotion in his voice when he wasn't making a speech. He leant down a pressed a kiss to her forehead and she wondered if he was ill. She looked at him as he pulled back. He did look worse for wear, though perhaps even more handsome for it a voice whispered in her head, with his curls not tied back in his usual style falling at his shoulders, they were scruffy as though he had spent a lot of time running his hands through it in the last few minutes and his eyes, as always, burned with whatever emotion her was feeling, at this specific moment concern, but they were on top of dark bags. She frowned at him and, still half asleep, raised a hand up to his cheek.

"You look terrible, Monsieur," she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse and she coughed to try and make it better.

"Why thank you, Éponine," he said with a frown and her eyebrows rose in surprise at the use of her name. "It's Enjolras and try not to talk too much, you've been asleep for over a week."

She just continued to stare up at him. Why the sudden change is attitude to her? Where was she? Why had she been asleep? Her eyes began to flickered round the room and she could feel panic rising in her views - she hadn't been home in a week? Gavaroche! Her father would be furious. She pushed herself up but Enjolras hands were on her arms in a flash pushing her back down and making sure she stayed. She fought against him.

"No, Gavaroche, I have to find 'Roche! I have to - ah!" she struggled against his strong hands but froze as a sharp pain shot through her and she collapse back onto the pillows.

Enjolras released her but his hands hovered as though looking for someone way to help but her mind was now elsewhere. The sharp pain did the job of making her remember though. Her 'customer', her father, being chucked out the house… Enjolras must have found her and with that knowledge Éponine felt her skin darken - how much did he know?

He helped her move into a sitting position and then sat beside her. He must of seen the panic and terror on her face as he opened his mouth but she didn't let him speak instead she asked that final question.

"How much do you know, Mon-Enjolras?" she muttered looking anywhere but his powerful eyes.

"I don't know what you mean," she glared it him dangerously and he sighed heavily. "Why didn't you tell us - Marius? We could have helped you; we could have gotten you out of there. You should have come to us, Éponine, why do did you had to hide this? Les Amis are your friends - I thought you trusted us. Did you think we'd act differently because you were a prostitute?" - Éponine's eyes flickered shut in horror and self-hatred - "Did you think we would treat you like glass if you told us your father abused you?" - he knew that as well, Éponine couldn't help but wonder how he found out so certainly - "We don't care, Éponine, we would've helped you. It wouldn't have reached … this! You would not be lying in my bed because I found practically dead in the street after you got beaten twice in one night, not to mention having been whipped."

His temper was rising and he knew, deep down, that he shouldn't moan at Éponine when she was in such a state but his voice was slowly getting louder. He couldn't help it. Now he knew she was fine, he had way for other things, such as his anger at her for not telling someone.

"Our case is helping people in your station, Éponine, we want to help everyone to have rights and freedom. You should have known we would assist in any way just from that. However, I would have believed the personal relationship all the Les Amis have with you would have made you completely certain. Pontmercy has been worried sick about you this last week! He thought you would tell him things like this, he loves you so much, now he's questioning if it is returned - in his mind, you're his sister.

"Why would you put yourself in harms when you had us just a few words away? Every evening when you sat around in the café, you have told one of us, it would have taken a few words - 'I need help' - anything! You're too proud and pride can lead you to dangerous places?... But I suppose you're aware of that now and you shouldn't have learned that the hard way.

"You should have told us, Éponine."

He repeated his message once more, his tone quieting to a hard whisper, just to make it clear to her how he felt about this. He jaw was tight and his eyes were burning with fury at her for putting herself in that situation.

Éponine just looked over at him, a little scared, and just couldn't seemed to figure out how to make her mouth more. A small voice, the one that said Enjolras was handsome dishevelled, whispered that now he knew he would never look at her romantically, though she wondered why that voice thought he ever would. When she eventually did speak it wasn't to answer any of his questions.

"I want to go back."

He stared at her like she was mental.

"Éponine, you hit your head," he began to try and logically talk her out of it but she snapped at him and cut him off beginning to sit up again. He moved to stop her but she threw of her hands.

"Don't tell me about my injuries, I am very aware of them," he was amazed at how threatening she could sound, not that she scared him. "I have to go back. I have to check on Gavaroche, I have to make sure that -"

"Éponine, Gavaroche told me that your father told you never to go back or he'd make sure you did," he forced her to lie back down. "I cannot allow you to put yourself in such high danger and besides I promise Joly that I'd make sure that -"

The door creaked opened slowly to reveal Joly himself with a soft smile on his face.

"Sorry, Enjolras, I knocked but clearly you didn't hear me," he said before turning to Éponine. "How's the patient?"

"Fine," Éponine said harshly, not removing her gaze from Enjolras, a gaze which was a deadly glare.

Joly looked between the two of them. Enjolras who seemed calm and as though nothing was wrong and Éponine who was glaring at him like he'd just committed the most dreadful crime known to human kind - he definitely walked in on something.

"Enjolras, I hope you're not getting her worked up," Joly frowned over at his friend. "It's not for her, she shouldn't be doing anything overexerting and overtaxing."

As he finished speaking Enjolras turned to Éponine with the clear meaning of 'see'. Joly realised that he had just dumped himself right in it as Éponine switched her glare to him.

"Perhaps I should go," Enjolras said though from his expression you could tell he didn't want, "let you examine, Éponine. I should check in at the university anyway."

"Yes, go away," Éponine glared at him, though she knew she didn't mean it, she didn't want him to leave but there was no way her pride was going to admit that.

"Might be a good idea, Enj, you seem to stress her out," Joly shrugged feeling bad for sending him away - Marius had told the Les Amis that he thought Enjolras was in love Éponine under the strict words that they didn't say anything to Enjolras or Éponine respectively.


	9. Chapter 9

Joly left after examining her, it made her extremely uncomfortable how much of her body he must now have seen, and she was alone in the apartment. So I think we can all guess what she did - Éponine Thérnardier is nothing is not proud and stubborn. She flung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the pain in her ribs but paying it no heed, and forced herself into a standing position, Enjolras shirt fell and brushed against the top of her thighs. Éponine looked down at herself and noticed how clean she was - probably the cleanest she had ever been since she was a child - she ran hers hands through her hair noting the last of tangles and the smoothness of it.

"What the…?" she muttered moving to look into a mirror that she could see on the back of the wardrobe door though by the dust covering it she was sure Enjolras didn't use it.

She did a double take, not recognising her own face, but eventually managed to think about clothing. She blushed as she looked down at Enjolras top but where had her clothes been put. She padded softly around his room but, when finding nothing, out into the main apartment. It wasn't that large. There was a door opposite which Éponine found led to a another bedroom - Combeferre's, we know - that was a lot messier, one direction from their room was a door at the end of the corridor - a bathroom - and the other way was the living area. Her clothes were not in the apartment and she sighed heavily: she couldn't go out in Enjolras top.

She went to sit on the sofa when, to her relief, she saw there was clothing there. Praying it was hiding her stuff she picked it up only to realise they were dresses and her stuff was not there. She held up a dress and studied it. Could she wear such an expensive dress, she didn't deserve to, but then she _had _to find Gavaroche. She battled between the two sides, a gamine should not be seen in such beautiful clothing, but eventually decided that it was her only option and now she was actually clean enough to pass without too much suspicion. As long as she didn't speak and they noticed that lack of bourgeois accent and vocabulary.

She tried not to look at her body, now littered with more scars than ever, as she dressed quickly, ignoring every stab of pain that shot through her - she could deal with it. She didn't know what to do with her hair so just left in hanging, running her fingers through it in an attempt to brush it, and hoped it wouldn't draw attention to her. Eventually she slipped out of the apartment.

It was midday and she stepped out of the building and looked around. She knew all of Paris quite well but this was an area that was at the lower end of her knowledge because it was near the university. She wondered through the streets for a while until she saw something that she knew and then breathed a sigh of relief.

She went to Gavaroche's elephant to begin with, calling his name into and begging for him to reply but she only got silence from the great structure. She sighed heavily. She was going to go back to Enjolras' eventually and he was going to be absolutely furious at her, she would have liked to have done this without going into the underbelly. She headed in the direction of her family's apartment, trying not to imagine his or Marius' reaction. Instead she focused on the relief on his face when he saw her wake and the way he said her name - it was stupid for her to daydream of this, she thought, because it would only hurt her in the long run. She imagined her was walking beside her as she got closer to the apartment but her image was shattered at a voice.

"Tut, tut, Éponine, did you really come back here?" she froze at the sound of Brujon's, a member of the Patron-Minette, voice. "You must have a death wish."

She turned slowly and looked at them, the Patron-Minette looked murderous and she realised that her father hadn't been drunk enough to forget his threat. It wasn't all of them though, her father, Montparnasse and Babet weren't in the group in front of her.

"What happened to you? Some bourgeois find you?" Claquesous spoke this time, his eyes scanning her figure as they all took a menacing step closer. Éponine raised her chin to show she was not afraid of them.

"You could say that."

"Well, I hope they won't miss you," Gueulemer mocked just before he pounced and grabbed her.

She screamed - the Les Amis were going to be pissed. She struggled against Gueulemer's hold but, Joly had been right, she was weaker than she used to be at the moment, that or he had gotten stronger. The other two laughed at her feeble attempts to free herself. Brujon threw the first punch and Gueulemer had the last kick once he had dropped her to the floor. Éponine knew they would have continued, her father threat had clearly meant he'd kill her, had it not been for the voice that echoed out from the top of the street.

"Leave her!"

The calm wave washed over Éponine despite the pain she was in - she thinks she has reopened some of her injuries from last week. Enjolras. The Patron-Minette laughed. Éponine could hear his footsteps coming closer and wondered momentarily if he was aware that it was her. She rolled to look at him and the look of pure fury he gave her told her that yes he was aware.

"Deal with him, Gueulemer," Claquesous growled but Enjolras was too quick for them.

They seemed to forget about Éponine as the Patron-Minette moved onto Enjolras but he was too strong for them - these men were generally conners not fighters whereas Enjolras was planning a revolution, he could fight. Éponine pushed herself up against the wall breathing harshly as she watched terrified but slowly, one by one, the Patron went down, knocked out not dead and Enjolras feel to his knees in front of her.

"Are you alright?" he asked panting and she nodded, her mouth ajar and her eyes slightly wider than usual.

"Are- are you?" she managed to force out.

"Yes but that doesn't matter," he said pulling her up by the tops of her arms. "What were you thinking? Éponine, I -"

Éponine didn't want to listen to another one of his speeches, though was usually all for it, she was hurt and tired and just wanted to leave. I suppose we can say this impaired her judgement a bit because, instead of cutting him off with words, she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips firmly to his. He froze and Éponine slowly pulled back as though he sudden statue impression had reminded her of what she was doing. She could feel her cheeks heating up and there was no dirt to hide that fact this time. He stared down at her with his eyes wide and Éponine opened her mouth to apologise but never got the chance.

His arms slipped around her waist and pulled her against him with a force that almost hurt and made it Éponine's turn to be surprised as he lowered his head to her height and kissed her again. This one lasted longer though it took her a little while to respond but when she did it was with fervour. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself up even closer. Her feet dangled off the ground as she did so and his arms tightened. Their lips were crashed together moving quickly, their tongues clashing. It was a passionate embrace that's for certain and only stopped when Éponine let out a small squeak of pain.

He pulled back and set her back on the ground breathing heavily but just stared down at her in concern. She smirked as she took in his appearance now, his hair and complete mess from where she had pulled on it and ran her hands through, his lips swollen slight and parted as he breathed heavily, he looked even better than he had when she woke up. She had never imagined Enjolras looking like this - it was the trademark of being thoroughly kissed.

"Come on, let's get you to Joly," it seemed his anger had been put out for the time beginning and he actually smiled at her. Her breath caught in her throat but she managed to smile back. "I will get Gavaroche, Les Amis will get him out, and_ you _will heal."

They were simple statements, orders practically that were not up for discussion and she actually resisted the urge to glare because she didn't want to ruin this by fighting with him. Why had he kissed her anyway? He knew everything now, he should discarding her, he should not be holding her close to him and protecting her. She was a gamine, she was dark, shadows, terror and pain whilst he was like the sun, bright and passionate, burning so brightly it often hurt her eyes. This would not last long she was sure but she took his offered arm and allowed him to lead her back into the direction of the flat, willing to enjoy being with the man we already said she knew she was little in love with while it lasted.

"Enjolras?"

"Hmm?"

"What's your name?" she grinned up at him as he laughed loudly, a sound she had never heard before, he was always so serious. "Shh!"

She glanced around nervously since they were still in her area of town and she didn't want to draw anyone out. Her 'shh' was shaking as she giggled slightly.

"Antoine," he told her.

"Okay."

**The original plan has gone slightly skewwhiff and this new plot seems to have run its course. This is my first ever Les Miserables story so I hope you like it. Please review and thanks for everyone has been reading me so far, you have no idea how much reviews and favourites and follows mean to me! x **

**A link to one that I love loads is - **** s/9199459/1/The-Dimples**

**I really shouldn't have put "okay" at the end there because, as anyone who has read The Fault in Our Stars will understand, it gives me drastic feels.**


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